High on a Lollypop
by BethyXstar
Summary: At a time of war, people are brought together and torn apart. Being a teenager is hard enough without having your life threatened. Lola is a Muggleborn with a crush. Can her love survive when hatred is forced upon her? Rated T for safety. GW/OC FW/AJ


_**(A/N):-**_

_So, here is the first chapter of a new story that I'm working on. I'll be trying to stick as close to books 5, 6 & 7 as possible, however there will be little tiny changes here and there, for example the fact there is someone at Hogwarts who JK Rowling completely forgot to mention._

**_Disclaimer:-_**

_As much as it pains me to say, the entire Wizarding World in which these characters live, including the outstanding castle we know as Hogwarts, belongs to J.K. Rowling and not me. As do all of the characters with the exception of Lola Armstrong, who is_ mine.__

__So now that that's all cleared up, I believe you have some reading to do, dear reader...__

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

The pub was dark and gloomy. A weary-eyed barman was stood behind the bar, silently rubbing a filthy mug with a dirty cloth. A quiet buzz of chatter was the only lively thing about the place. The noise came from the few people who had already arrived for the meeting. Neville, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Cho, Marietta and Luna were surrounding Harry, Hermione and Ron, who were all looking quite anxious.

"This looks interesting," Katie commented as we dragged over four chairs.

"What's it all about then, Harry?" Ange asked, crossing her legs.

"We'll tell you when everyone's here," Hermione told her, her arms crossed over her chest in a rather snobbish manner.

"Who else is coming?" Alicia asked, "Besides Fred, George and Lee, I mean."

"Well…" Hermione said, looking suddenly sheepish, "We didn't really expect all of these people…"

"You're quite the popular one, Mr Potter," Ange said.

Eventually everyone had arrived and Fred ordered us all a Butterbeer.

"Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these…" he said as the barman began pouring twenty-six drinks.

I rummaged in my robes for some coins, but came out empty handed.

"You alright, Lolly?" George asked, dropping into a seat next to me. I looked at the floor, feeling my cheeks blush at his closeness.

"I don't have any money," I muttered. A curtain of blonde hair fell from behind my ear, which I tucked away again irritably.

"Don't worry about it. Fred'll lend you some," he grinned, "Oi! Fred! You can afford Lolly's, can't you?"

Fred put on a mock shocked face.

"What? I have to buy a pretty girl a drink? How can you suggest such a thing?" and then he grinned at me, "'Course I can."

"Thanks," I said, blushing even more.

I felt a nudge in my ribs and looked up to see Ange grinning at me knowingly. She waggled her eyebrows at me. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help laughing a little.

The chatter died down and every eye was on Harry expectantly.

"Er," Hermione said, her voice abnormally high, "Well – er – hi."

The attention switched half-heartedly to her instead.

"Well … erm … well, you know why you're here. Erm … well, Harry here had the idea – I mean … I had the idea – that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts – and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us, because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts. Well, I thought that it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells-"

Michael Corner interrupted, "You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?"

"Of course I do," Hermione said immediately, "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because … because …" she took a deep breath, "because Voldemort is back."

Everyone reacted. I jumped a little, but felt instantly ashamed of myself for doing so. Of course he was back. How else had Cedric Diggory died? I looked at Harry and saw that he looked quite sick. Hermione was telling the truth.

"Well … that's the plan, anyway," said Hermione, "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to -"

Zacharias Smith interrupted, looking aggressive, "Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?"

"Well, Dumbledore believes it –"

"You mean Dumbledore believes _him,__" _he said, nodding at Harry.

"Who are _you?__" _asked Ron, rudely.

"Zacharias Smith and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look, that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about –"

"It's ok, Hermione," said Harry, "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Zacharias did not look bothered by this speech in the slightest.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered. I think we'd all like to know -"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry hissed. He looked furious, like he wanted to hit Smith almost as much as I did. My nails were literally digging into my palms and my teeth were grinding together. If there was one thing that I absolutely couldn't stand, it was disloyal people. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

A stony silence fell upon the group as everyone glanced around, expecting someone to leave their seat. No one did.

"So," said Hermione, going back to her nervously high-pitched voice, "So … like I was saying … if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to -"

Once again, poor Hermione was interrupted.

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" Susan Bones asked.

"That's what I heard," Ange whispered to me, "Apparently he used one when he was attacked by a Dementor during the summer."

"Yeah," said Harry.

"A corporeal Patronus?" Susan questioned.

"Er – you don't know Madam Bones, do you?"

"She's my auntie," Susan smiled, "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So – is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes."

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee exclaimed, "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred explained, "She said you get enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry. I laughed quietly.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot demanded, "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year …"

"Er – yeah, I did, yeah."

Neville spoke over the murmurs of awe, admirably, "And in our first year, he saved that Philogical Stone -"

"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that – from You-Know-Who."

"And that's not to mention," said Cho Chang, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year – getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things …"

An impressed murmur spread around the group.

"Look," Harry said seriously. Everyone fell silent, "I … I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but … I had a lot of help with all that stuff …"

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once, "That was a seriously cool bit of flying …"

"Yeah, well –"

"And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," agreed Harry, looking flattered, "no, ok, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is –"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" Smith demanded.

"Here's an idea," said Ron, angrily, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it."

Fred and I spoke at the same time. It had been bubbling up inside me for too long to keep my mouth shut.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"He didn't say that at all!" I exclaimed.

"Would you like us to clear out your ears for you?" enquired George, pulling out a lethal looking metal instrument from his Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," Fred said.

"You have no idea how much I want to slap that stupidity off your face, Smith," I hissed.

"You see, even Lolly wants to hit you. Imagine what we want to do," Ange said angrily.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on … the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

Smith crossed his arms and stayed silent, but everyone else murmured their agreement.

"Right," said Hermione, "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week –"

"Hang on," Ange interrupted, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practise."

"No, nor with ours," said Cho.

"Nor ours," added Smith. I shot him a look that said 'oh, you're in on this now, are you' in all of its sarcastic glory.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, tapping her foot impatiently, "but you know, this is rather more important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters –"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up! I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells –"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some … some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry."

I hadn't thought of that, however it made perfect sense. Luna seemed to agree with me, but for different reasons.

"Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" Harry asked. Everyone stared at her.

"Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths," she explained.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has."

"What are Heliopaths?" Neville asked, looking lost.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna told him, "great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of –"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione said.

"Oh, yes, they do!" Luna exclaimed, loudly.

They continued like this for a while until Ginny interrupted them.

"_Hem__hem,__" _she said, imitating Umbridge so well that quite a few people looked around in alarm, "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee.

"As long as –"

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," Hermione interrupted Ange, who shut her mouth looking frustrated at being cut off. "Well the other thing we need to decide is where we're going to meet …"

Everyone fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie. This was a bad choice as Madam Pince would go crazy about us jinxing each other near her precious books.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" suggested Dean. This was a bad choice as none of the teachers were going to be very accommodating to such rebellious behaviour.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione, "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged through her bag and drew out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"I – I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anyone else what we're up to."

Fred wrote his name down without hesitation, and I grabbed the quill straight after him to write my own. As George took it, our hands brushed. I jerked my hand away quickly and looked away, feeling my face heat up.

"Er …" Smith said, refusing to take the parchment that George was trying to give him, "well … I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

Once everyone had signed, including Smith, Fred spoke breezily.

"Well, time's ticking on. George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase; we'll be seeing you all later."

Everyone began to leave.

"I'll see you later, guys," I said to Ange, Katie and Alicia.

"Aren't you coming with us? We were going to pick up some ice cream."

"No, I'm going to get some drawing done. I don't have any money anyway."

"Ok then. Have fun, Lolly."

I waved to them as they headed up the street. I began walking in the opposite direction, feeling freer than I had done in a while.

I walked briskly, feeling the cool breeze on my face. It felt good. I had always enjoyed walking. It gave me a chance to think. It was strange how all of my thoughts seemed intent on gluing themselves to George.

When I reached the Shrieking Shack, an eerie silence touched me like a Dementor's kiss. I shivered. This was perfect. I had to get this down on paper before the atmosphere disappeared.

People came and went as I sketched and drew and shaded. Finally, I had got the perfect likeness down on paper. It was only when a cold wind blew that I looked up and realised just how dark it had gotten.

A spark of panic erupted inside me. I leapt to my feet, stuffing my sketchbook into my bag. I was out way after the curfew. The Shrieking Shack looked even spookier with the moon casting its shadows over it.

When I was sure that I had packed everything away, I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and legged it down the street as fast as I could. I couldn't run all the way to the castle gates – one because I was not that fit or fast and would run out of puff before even half way; and two because Finch would catch me and put me in detention with Umbridge for the rest of my life, even after I had graduated.

I didn't know what to do, but for now I just had to keep running.

"Lola? What are you doing here?"

I spun around to the voice, clutching a stitch, breathing gaspingly.

Fred and George stood in the shadows of Gladrags, hiding something behind their backs. They were looking at me in confusion.

"What are _you __two _doing here?" I asked.

"We asked first," grinned Fred.

"I asked second; so what?"

"We asked first so it would be polite for you to answer our question first."

"Fine," I huffed, putting my hands on my hips, "I was sketching the Shrieking Shack and I lost track of time. Now what are _you __two _doing here"

"You were sketching? Can we see?"

"Don't change the subject, George; you're hiding something from me."

Their mood changed suddenly. They both looked sheepish, shifting their feet.

"What makes you think that?" Fred said, looking anywhere but at me.

"Erm, maybe the fact that you've both got your hands behind your backs and your backs against a wall, and neither of you can look me in the eyes. Oh, and you're both out after curfew."

"We – erm … we were just – uh … returning some faulty Zonko's products," George said. He was obviously lying, but I didn't care anymore. My stomach had just rumbled so loud that it had echoed around the nearly empty street. I was also ridiculously cold.

"Do either of you know how we can get back without being caught?" I asked, hugging my cloak closer to me.

"As a matter of fact," Fred said, back to his usual grinning self.

"We do," finished George, also back to his usual self.

They both strolled forward – after hastily casting a camouflaging spell on the thing they were hiding and shoving it into their bag. They each hooked their arms through mine and began leading me towards the amazing sweet shop, Honeydukes.

"Guys," I whispered, "I don't think Mr Flume will be very pleased about us sneaking into his shop after hours."

"Don't worry; we're his favourite customers," Fred replied, casually strolling through the door which rang an invisible tinkling bell.

A round, happy looking woman with a wide smile and a stained apron waddled into the room, dusting flour from her hands.

"What have you boys been up to now?" she asked. And then her eyes found me and they widened.

"Erm … hi," I said, shyly.

"Now I see what you've been up to," the woman smiled, winking at the twins. I blushed whilst the boys laughed.

"We're just passing through, Madam Flume," Fred said.

"Although our friend, Lola, here, missed dinner and we're worried she might be trying to starve herself," George said.

"Well we can't be having that," Madam Flume tutted, waddling over to the counter, "What would you like, dear?"

"I – erm – don't have any money…"

"Oh, don't worry about that. You Hogwarts kids spend enough money here to keep me from going bankrupt any time soon."

Once I had got a bag full of sweets and chocolate and flavours galore, Fred and George once again hooked their arms through mine and began to lead me through a door and down some stairs.

"Thanks, Madam Flume!" Fred called over his shoulder.

"Any time, boys! And you're welcome back any time, too, Lola!" she called back.

"Where are we go –"

"All in good time, Lolly, all in good time," George grinned.

We were stood in the dark of the Honeydukes cellar. The only thing I could hear was the steady breathing of the twins and the only thing I could feel was their arms on mine.

"Guys," I whispered, "What the hell are we doing?"

"_Lumos,__" _George whispered and the end of his wand lit up, illuminating the cardboard boxes that surrounded us, overflowing with out-of-date sweets.

Fred unhooked himself from me and I was glad of the lack of light because the fact that George was still linking arms with me was enough to transfigure me into a tomato.

He went over to a certain space on the floor and bent down. He tapped the floorboard three times with his wand and a handle appeared out of nowhere.

"We have the Marauders to thank for this," Fred said, as he opened the trapdoor.

"The what?" I asked, confused.

"We'll explain later, come on. Let's get going; Lee and Ange'll wondering where we are."

The twins dropped down into the tunnel beneath the floor first. I stood at the edge, looking down nervously. I had never been good with heights – especially jumping from them – which was partly the reason why I hated flying.

"Come on, Lolly," Fred shouted, his voice echoing.

"How – erm – far down is it?" I asked.

"Not very far," said George's voice, who was much closer than Fred, "Don't worry; I'll catch you."

"What if you miss me?"

"I won't."

I took a deep breath.

"Ok," I breathed.

Come on, Lola, you can do this. You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? Find that bravery, come on.

I jumped.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"No, no, it wasn't you," I said, smiling up into the shadowy face of George, "I bit my tongue."

He chuckled, setting me down on my feet properly.

"Come on," he said, starting to walk after his brother down the lightless tunnel.

A sudden urge came over me and I just had to comply with it.

"George?" I asked, my voice bouncing off the walls, "I'm scared of the dark."

It was a lie, but it worked like a charm.

"I've got you, it's ok," he said, taking my hand in his.

I held back the giggle that was trying to come up my throat as we walked hand-in-hand back to Hogwarts.

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><p><strong><em>(AN):-_**

_Thanks for reading! Please spare the time to write a review, or you could send a private message if you prefer. A follow would also be hugely appreciated. I love all of my readers. They make me write more and writing takes me away into places I dream of. So, yeah. Thank you!_

_Love from Beth =] xx_


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